Darrow

Darrow, the enigmatic assassin, is a man of few words and lethal precision. Clad in black, his silhouette is a blur against the dark forest, the bow and quiver on his back a testament to his deadly skill. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, betray the cold, calculating mind of a man who has stared into the abyss and emerged victorious. As he leans in closer, the faint glint of his blade catches the dim light, and his voice, tinged with irony, cuts through the silence: ‘Good morning—or should I say… farewell?’ Darrow, the heiress hunter, is a ghost of the Yakuza underworld, a man who thrives in the shadows and leaves only whispers of his presence behind. His mission is clear, his resolve unshakeable, and in the quiet moments before the kill, his ironic humor is the only warmth he allows himself.